The Billionaire's Pearl Ring

Chapter 1 - The Birthday

Chapter 1 - The Birthday

Emily's POV

My new phone rings and I pick it up immediately seeing it's Robert calling. Although I woke up bright and early today, his side of the bed was empty, like most mornings.

I greet him cheerfully and in return I'm slapped with news that he needs to work late again. I know better than to argue and plead for him to spend more time with me, so I just accept it, playing the part of the good wife.

"I can't miss it, you know how it is, especially now that I'm due to take full ownership of the company. I'm really sorry, honey." His voice comes across a bit hard and annoyed even. He sounds like he's in a hurry and I'm keeping him from something important. I put my happy face on even though he can't see me.

"Of course, yeah. I completely understand, Rob. Go do what you have to do and I'll see you later, alright?" An idea pops into my head and I smile knowingly as I lay on the bed, on my belly and propped onto my elbows. My phone is on speaker right next to me and I'm watching myself in the full length mirror that is in front of the bed.

"Thanks honey. I got to go, bye."

"Bye, love you!" I chime as the line goes silent. Yup.. still as awkward as always when one says 'I love you' and the other just hangs up. I mean, rude, much? But I guess it's only natural after being together for almost 8 years. It had bothered me in the beginning, but now I'm so used to it that most of the time even I won't tell my husband I love him when ending our conversations.

I sigh looking at the girl that stared back at me in the mirror. I've grown, I'm an adult now and I live a comfortable life. Somehow, I still feel like something's missing, I still feel like I've had my wings clipped and been put in a golden cage. Letting out a scoff I shake my head. I should stop nit picking at my life and just be happy with what I have.

I think back at my husband and the conversation we just had. Him apologizing for needing to be at the office till late, not even a single mention of my birthday, which, by the way, is today. I smile because I think I know what this is. His pathetic excuse from earlier makes me laugh. Today is my birthday and I'm pretty sure that Robert is planning a surprise party for me tonight. That, or he just plain forgot about his wife's birthday, which I highly doubt. I mean who does that? Surely he is planning to surprise me and I have to look the part.

I spend the next couple of hours taking a long shower, making sure my body is completely hairless like a freaking Sphynx cat. In between replying to 'happy birthday' texts and taking more birthday calls from my immediate family, I managed to put together a decent birthday outfit. I am pleased to say I look good. Skinny fit, black leather trousers, that make my legs look lean and long, paired with a white, flowy, silk blouse. I'm wearing my long rose gold necklace that I received from my parents when I turned 21. I look sexy and sophisticated and casual enough not to seem like I knew about the party and spoil the surprise. I put my hair in a sleek, high ponytail and add just a bit of make-up. I don't want to overdo it and have a full on glam, so I just put some eyeliner and do my lips a dark red colour. I am loving my birthday look and can't wait for my party. I can't help snapping some cute selfies to post later, tell me someone who wouldn't do what I just did? It's a shame not to immortalize this look.

I glance at the phone to see a few new birthday messages from people on social media. People who I've never spoken with, only having these cringeworthy holiday or birthday wishes exchange every year. I notice the time and it's already 7 in the evening. Well, if there were a party, it would have to start soon, right? I quickly text Robert to ask him if he knows when he's going to be home. He replies after a few minutes telling me that he'll be home by 9.

Alright, he must be gathering everyone so they can all come together. I can't help it, my mind works in such a weird detective-like way. I always have all these theories swirling in my brain making up mysteries where there's none. Some would just call me a bored housewife, and I couldn't find an argument to disagree.

As more time passes, I won't lie, I'm starting to panic a bit and the feeling of doubt is snaking its way into my mind. It can't be that I don't get a party, can it? About an hour later and 2 Chardonnay glasses in, I accept defeat. There's clearly no party. My lips aren't red anymore, but I'm holding on to hope. I'm expecting cake. Robert always buys me a birthday cake, no exceptions, just like I buy him one every year. I don't actually care about any parties. I totally understand how important it was for him to go to that business dinner. I have always encouraged and supported him in his career. I might just be trying to convince myself here, but what else can I do?

It might have been a terrible idea, but I downed the whole bottle of wine. Oupsie! I giggle when I hold the bottle trying to shake the last drop of wine into my glass. Hearing the front door unlock, I perk up like a cat and jump from the sofa to go greet my husband. Indeed, is almost 9, he is true to his word, as always. Abandoning my now empty glass I approach Robert with a huge grin plastered on my tipsy face.

"Happy birthday, baby!" He hands me a bouquet of flowers. Lilies. I fight the frown that threatened to replace my smiling face, and hug Robert back, thanking him for the flowers, and trying my best not to look deflated.

Truth be told, I absolutely hate lilies. Nope, that's a lie. I despise lilies. Yes, that's more like it. To me they are the flower of death. Seriously, the pungent smell of lilies only reminds me of a funeral. The only place fit to have a vase full of those demonic scented flowers, is on a casket. Yet again, my lovely husband always brings me lilies. It seems to be his flowers of choice, despite me casually (OK, not really casually, more like aggressively) mentioning a few times how much I don't enjoy how they smelled. But I am not going to be a b***h about it, so I thank him for the flowers as I always do, and go to the kitchen to put them in water. I will find a place to put them later, as far away from my nose as possible.

We decided to order in (because I haven't cooked anything today, you know, expecting a birthday party and all).

Dinner has been quiet with Robert only telling me about the business and their new associates. I kind of tuned out after 5 seconds, partly because of the wine I just had and partly because conversations like that didn't spark any interest in me. Don't get me wrong, I love business, I would have loved to get involved, it's just the way Robert's company works, is very unappealing and old school to me. Old school in a boring, safe and non challenging way.

"Is there something wrong?" Robert asks me, seemingly concerned. I realise I must have dropped my smile, and I probably look really deep in my thoughts. It's been eating at me the whole time, and I'm beyond conflicted. The non confrontational angel on my shoulder is telling me to let it go and move on, but the feisty demon on the other shoulder is urging me to bring it up. Needles to say, I sided with the little demon this time. Yes, that's how much self control I have. Looking at my husband I speak up the words that I know inside are going to spark yet another argument.

"Rob, I had a lovely evening, but I have to be honest and tell you I was expecting cake." I put my hands over my face to cover my eyes and my embarrassed red cheeks.

"I'm sorry honey. I was so stressed about this deal and everything leading up to it, that I truly forgot to order a cake for your. I'm really sorry." Well, what the hell do I say to that? I mean, he sincerely apologised, his apology and reasoning make sense, so I can't be a brat and complain about this further, right? Wrong, so wrong. Spurred on by the same little demon as earlier, and armed with the clouded judgement from drinking a whole bottle of wine on my own, I take things further.

"I know, but still. It's my birthday. Silly little me really thought you were planning a surprise or something." I chuckle nervously and look at him with big puppy dog eyes, still filled with the hope that he'll just pull a present out of his coat pocket, or something.

Robert just looks at me and his whole face tells me he's already done with this conversation. Oh, but I am not done, not by a long shot. In fact I'm more annoyed than ever. (Damn you little demon, always getting me in trouble.) "I was at least hoping you'll get me a gift." I pout, trying to look cute and not like I was blaming him, but failing miserably.

"I got you this new phone, didn't I?" I scrunch my eyebrows together, waiting for him to laugh. Surely he can't be serious. I wait a couple more seconds, but it looks like he's serious. That just full on pisses me off.

"First of all, I bought that last week. And I bought it myself, might I add."

"Yes, but I allowed you to buy it." He grins at me. "Tell me, who gave you the money for it?"

I look down, not wanting to meet his eyes, because I already know where this is heading. I'm fuming inside, but it's always the same thing. We're that cliché couple fighting about money. He earns the money and I just spend it. At least that's how he sees things. I'm not even going to go into the fact that he wouldn't allow me to have a job in the first place.

"It was me. I gave you the money. So, happy birthday, baby." He smiles a genuine smile. As usual he doesn't understand what is wrong with his statement.

"Well that worked out well in your favour, didn't it? I spat at him before storming out of the dining room and slamming the bedroom door behind me.